dotintime
get in line…go somewhere
Summertime and the living is restless. Your blood heats. Like an insect, you awake. Summertime and you don’t live, you migrate. Get in your car and get. Move yourself on up to a different neighborhood, different city, different state, different country. If you’re lucky, you might even get to different waters. Take your pick; it’s all there laid out for you. A menu of summertime drifts. And somebody’s always waving goodbye.
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